A Horse Called El Dorado Read Online Free PDF Page B

Mama flatly. ‘Whatever I am owed from last year’s work can be cancelled, if I can have enough money to travel to Cali.’ I grabbed at Mama’s arm and looked up at her. I wanted to speak but she clamped a hand over my face to keep me silent. I had known for days that she was planning to leave thecommune, but somehow I didn’t think that she really meant it. I could think of nothing but the opposite of what Mama said. This was our home! To leave seemed wrong, horrible, crazy, but because I was twelve years old I had no say in the matter.
    The grown-ups argued for a few minutes. My friends looked at me expectantly, hoping that I could somehow change Mama’s mind. Then Hank hushed everyone and promised that she would get the money. He reached out to shake her hand.
    ‘I will never shake hands with a friend of AGRA,’ Mama shouted at him.

Chapter 9
    We had a long distance to travel – from where we were in the southeast of Colombia to a city many miles away, in the west of the country. It was possible to go by boat along the Río Putumayo but Mama was advised against it – it was too expensive for us and it would still leave us with a long journey by land to Cali. Boats could also be attacked along the river at docking stations and there would be other difficulties that the adults discussed with Mama.
    Mama decided to wait for the ‘loner’ of the region, Jairo Alzate, a strange character who occasionally visited the commune. He usually stayed only one night before moving on. He always frightened us children a little with his stories of the ghosts and monsters of the mountains. But he was a good guide, as he knew every path and road for miles around.
    Jairo came to the commune a few weeks later. He arrived late at night, so I did not see the ‘loner’ until the next morning. He was talking to the adults and smoking by the fire. He wore a poncho , a garment typical of my country that is like a sleeveless coat, made of one piece, with a hole to put your head through. His black hat hadfeathers around the brim, his trousers were patched and his boots looked almost worn out. His two mules, which he looked after with great care, were tied up in the corral with our horses. He didn’t say very much, but gave Mama and me a weak smile and nodded. When he took off his poncho he had various necklaces on underneath, including an ivory rosary with a crucifix that looked as if it was made of gold.
    Jairo seemed very vague about what we wanted to do and agreed to everything Mama asked him. He refused to stay another night at the commune though – we would have to leave with him that evening. Keeping his gaze fixed on the ground before him, he said something about the phases of the moon, then began to draw in the mud with a stick that he took from the fire. I could see Mama was annoyed, but she knew that we would need Jairo for the first part of our journey.
    Mama hastily gave away her utensils, her pots and pans and much of her clothes, but kept her jewellery and shoes. My belongings included my knife, a collection of river stones, a slingshot and my straw hat, which had men on horses made out of coloured straw sewn around the outside like a cartoon strip. I was very proud of this. There was even a guitar man on a horse, which Mama had sewn on. This was a memento of my papa, wherever he was – the man who did not care for me, as father bird does not care for last year’s nest, Mama once said.
    We put our possessions into an old carpet bag whichhad been used by so many commune members that no-one knew who it belonged to, or where it came from. Whatever room was left in the bag we stuffed with food, and we brought a separate small crate of eatables for the journey. As evening came on I suddenly became very sad. My friends César, Jésus, Martha and little Jaime did not seem to know I was really leaving. They worked on with their parents, preparing food, as I rushed off to see El Dorado.
    There he was with the other horses,